Crossfire
by Bitterblue x
Summary: Sir Edward, a ruthless knight of Volterra, has a secret from his past.  When the fiery Lady Bella ends up his prisoner, Edward must act fast.  She is the beautiful girl who once saved his life- and now the only person who could destroy it.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

The boy stared at the bread, his mouth watering and his stomach clenching in painful emptiness. He hadn't eaten in two days and the smell was making him lightheaded. It was hearty bread, filled with raisins and dates, wafting its delicious scent out of the baker's window. His fingers itched for it. The boy took a nervous glance around. The baker's wife had moved away to help a customer in the next window, leaving the bread to cool on its own. In a moment of desperate foolishness, the boy grabbed the loaf and stuffed it under his shirt, ignoring the burning on his stomach. A few welts were well worth this prize.

But he didn't even make it ten steps down the alleyway. Unbeknownst to the hungry boy, the baker had seen his move. The boy gave a strangled yell as his tattered shirt collar was wrenched backwards. In his surprise, the boy stumbled and his prize fell from his shirt to the muddy street.

"Thief!" the baker yelled, "You filthy rat! That bread is ruined, you little street scum, I will kill you for that!"

The boy let out a strangled yell as he was hit across the face by the baker's massive hand. The sting was made worse by the biting cold of the morning. Another hit came and he felt his lip split open. The hand moved around his throat and clenched tight. The boy gasped for breath, but none came. What a poor way to go, he thought bitterly, but it had to come sometime. Black spots appeared in his vision as he continued to gasp for life. In the moments before unconsciousness reached him, he heard the most beautiful voice.

"Stop this instant!"

The hand around his neck loosened and the boy dropped to the muddy street, wheezing and drawing burning breaths through his damaged lungs.

"But my Lady, he is a thief. He must be punished for his actions or he will not learn."

"Look at him! He's starving. How would killing him teach a lesson?"

The voice was lovely, lilting and musical in its temper. Still gasping, the boy looked up to see a vision before him. His first thought was that she resembled a small angel. The most beautiful girl he had ever seen, long spiraling chocolate hair running down her back and milky white skin, flushed in a rosy pink on her cheeks. She must have been even younger than the boy, hardly ten summers, and yet she had on the finest of dresses, silk and beaded with what were surely jewels. Living in the slums, the boy had never seen such finery up close before, merely from afar when the king and his court would make procession through the streets.

"Let him alone, he is barely holding on as it is! You will release him." The boy was shocked by how easily she doled out commands to a man three times her age and size, but she spoke with the eloquence and maturity of someone much older and there was a fierce stubbornness in her face that said she expected to be obeyed.

The boy looked up to the baker, who was eyeing the girl with wariness. "I cannot just let this rat go without punishment, my Lady. My wares have been ruined."

The girl marched forward, pulling a bracelet off of her hand as she went. "This will cover the cost. Now release him to me."

The baker eyed the jeweled bracelet with greedy wonder and snatched it from her hand as soon as it was in reach. "The Lady is too kind. Blessings upon you and your household." And with that, he rushed off to stash his prize before the young girl could change her mind.

The boy, rubbing his injured neck, watched the man go and could not believe this turn of events. He had been minutes away from sure death and now he was saved by a fiery little angel.

The girl approached him, the hard look gone from her face. Now she looked the innocent child of her age as she offered the boy her hand up. He hesitated, not wanting to taint her pearly, delicate skin with his muddy hand, but she reached forward and took it anyways. Standing up, he was a head taller than her, looking down on her lovely face.

"Are you well?" she asked. He swallowed hard and nodded, unsure how to act towards an angel. He had never spoken to nobility before, never touched them for that matter. With that thought, the boy jerked his hand out of hers and bowed, inwardly cursing himself for forgetting to do so.

"Please don't," she whispered and he straightened again. She smiled up at him, and he felt a tightening in his chest at her innocent beauty. "I've seen you before," she said, "You work at the mill, don't you?"

The boy felt a thrill of happiness that this beautiful girl had ever noticed him, but then, remembering, he looked down in shame and muttered, "I used to, my Lady." Before his fight with Peter which led to his dismissal. Now he roamed the streets looking for scraps to survive on.

"Please, call me Bella. And what is your name?"

But before he could work up the nerve to speak his name, a man from beyond the alley shouted, "Marie!" The girl jumped and turned to see a finely dressed man walk past the alleys opening, searching for someone, and walk out of sight.

She turned back and said quickly, "I must leave. But here," and she took the boys hand and in it, placed a silver ring with a large ruby.

The boy gaped at the ring and tried to thrust it back. "I cannot accept this, my Lady."

"It's Bella. And I want you to have it. Please," she spoke the last word in such a sweet whisper, that the boy allowed her to close his fingers around the ring. He stared down at her, trying to memorize her face so that he could think of her always. She smiled at him with warmth. He couldn't remember the last time someone had given him such a smile.

"Marie!"

She jumped again and before the boy could react, she pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed his dirty cheek.

"Bye!" she called and ran down the alley into the nobleman's arms. He scooped her up and held her tightly, chastising her for disappearing.

"Sorry, Papa. I got lost," she told him in a sweet voice. He kissed her forehead and put her down, holding her hand as they walked away. She turned and waved at the boy before she disappeared around the corner.

The boy didn't move, in fact he stood in the same spot for several more minutes, clutching her ring tightly in his fist. So low, that no one would be able to hear, he whispered the name of the angel he had just met to the bitter wind.

"_Bella_."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

_Eight Summers Later…_

The lance smashed into the knight's chest with a hard impact, jarring the man off his horse as pieces of wood splintered around him. Edward rode by and lifted his mangled lance high in victory. The crowd cheered wildly for their favorite competitor.

"Three points to Sir Edward of Masen!" the herald yelled as a page raised Sir Edward's flag to the stand, the red lion dancing across the black cloth in the wind.

This was Edward's final match of the day, and he had won them all. He reveled in the cheers of the crowd, all wishing him well and congratulating him. A far cry from the beginning of his life, but then he didn't like to dwell on those days.

Edward had begun as a miserable wretch, a poor beggar boy too lowly even for pity. He shuddered and pushed that thought away as he took a final lap around the arena. His days in Forks were in the past. Now he was Sir Edward of Masen, knight of Volterra and favorite of King Aro. No one knew of his former life. The two kingdoms had been on the brink of war since before his birth and the borders closed even longer. Volterra only knew him as their champion Sir Edward, and there was not a sole around who could spot him as the beggar boy who once roamed the streets of Forks.

Sir Jasper cantered over to him and the two men clasped forearms.

"Well done, Ed. Another night of celebration ahead then, eh?"

"Your lack of focus amazes me, Jasper. The tournament's barely begun. Today's processional will not decide the winner."

Jasper winked and chuckled. "Well, yes, but it's only been a day and Sir Michael's ass is already looking a bit sore. Two more days of this tournament and he should be done for."

They watched Sir Michael stand from where Edward had thrown him off his horse and walk stiffly over to his squire, rubbing his ass while he yelled at the poor boy. Jasper laughed heartily and even Edward gave a dark chuckle. He had never liked the weasel.

The trumpets sounded as King Aro stood and the crowd fell silent. Aro raised his hands toward the competing knights and the watching crowd, donning a fatherly smile for his subjects.

"Welcome all to the Tournament of Volterra. May your swords be sharp and lances strike true." Edward suppressed an eye roll. For such a wicked old bastard, Aro could play the role of grandfatherly king well. "Our competition has begun today with gallantry worthy of this country, I could not be more pleased. And in honor this day, I offer a prize to match the valor of our competitors. I'm sure you will all appreciate this added… incentive to champion the tournament."

Edward and Jasper exchanged curious looks. Aro was building up the tournament prize an unusual amount. The best he had ever offered to a champion was a gold statue of Adonis, which was currently standing in Edward's parlor in the castle.

The crowd watched as four large encasements covered in cloths were rolled out to the front of the arena.

King Aro, a delighted smile on his face, called out, "As prizes for the champions of sword, ax and bow, I give you three jewels taken from our enemy land of Forks-" the crowd booed at the name "-and brought here to please our young lords!" He waved his hand and the covers were pulled off of the first three encasements to reveal three finely dressed and beautiful women in barred cages, each cringing away as the crowd roared in excitement. Each wore a blue sash emblazoned with a white wolf around their waists, the Forks emblem.

Jasper let out a yell of surprised delight. "Well the King has certainly found an attractive way to spice up this tournament! Ladies of Forks, who would have thought him to be so bold."

Edward did not openly react. He had gotten quite adept over the years at hiding any reaction towards the mention of Forks, his onetime home that nearly killed him and would kill him now if ever revealed. He was a knight of Volterra, respected and revered throughout, yet if his true past was ever unearthed, he would lose it all and quite possibly be the next man in line at the gallows. But Edward had buried that all and he would no more flinch at the mention of his birth land then he would allow another to ride his horse.

Aro quieted the crowd with a slice of his hand. "And to be presented to the winner of the lance and tournament champion, I bestow a gem of the finest caliber, a supposedly unattainable treasure— now to be the entertainment of our winner." The crowd laughed. "I give you—" he waved his hand and the last curtain pulled away "the fair Lady Marie, beloved niece to King William of Forks himself!"

The crowd roared in triumph as the cloth fluttered off of the cage to reveal a dark haired beauty clutching the bars and staring defiantly out to her country's enemies. Her long chocolate hair flowed down her back and her cheeks flushed with rage to create the most attractive shade of rose.

Edward stilled, unable to move a fraction of an inch as he stared at the woman. She had grown, and though she had clearly been pampered for this event, there was a shadow of a bruise on her cheek that suggested a struggle and a coldness to her eyes that had not been there once. Yet all he could truly see was an angel. His heart clenched as Sir Edward of Masen, Knight of Volterra was once more the small beggar boy, gazing up at the most beautiful sight in the world. He began breathing faster, panting in awestruck shock and one word forced its way up his tightening throat and was wrenched from his lips.

"_Bella_."

As though she had heard it, though it was not possible from across the arena, she turned her eyes to meet his with a piercing certainty in them. He hadn't felt so bare, so vulnerable since that time many years ago when she had gazed upon him. He didn't know whether to fall to his knees and weep or to slay her on the spot for once more exposing that pitiful boy that he had worked so hard to quash.

But after a moment, she looked past him. He knew what she saw, just another knight, another enemy. Edward no longer resembled that dirty skin-and-bones child, a blessing, indeed. Yet he couldn't quell the hollow in his chest.

No. He had to get a grip on himself. Where was the control that he had spent years refining? Where was the stoic focus that Carlisle had taught him? But try as he might, he could not pull his eyes away from the beauty.

The crowd was becoming restless, pushing forward to get a good look and jeer at the foreign women.

Bella clenched the bars with her small hands and glared down at the people with the defiance of a high noble. Edward watched the tightening crowd with anger. But then he glanced to his fellow knights who were all leering at her with wolfish grins and soon his blood was boiling.

The beauty, the angel was caged behind bars, at the mercy of his cruel king and countrymen— bent on possessing the enemy king's lovely niece. Edward's chest tightened and his hands clenched into fists.

No matter what else would come of it, he would win this tournament if it cost the lives of every man here.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Bella gripped the bars tighter to stop the shaking in her hands. She would not cower. She would not give these savages the pleasure of seeing her fear. As it was, they jeered at her captivity. She glanced to the side and saw her companions weeping in their cages. Her heart clenched and honestly, she felt like doing the same but what good would come of that? Volterra was known for preying on the weak. Ruthless and beastly, the whole lot. She remembered her mother's stories from childhood.

She peered at the other girls, but didn't know any of them. She thought she might recognize the farthest girl, who was now dabbing her eyes on her sleeve, as one of Lord York's many daughters. Lord York was a border lord, his estates lying on the reaches of Forks closest to Volterra. Bella guessed them all to be daughters of the border lords, taken from their homes and smuggled across the mountains. It was her own misfortune that she was visiting a Lady Angela, who had just married the widowed Lord Dallas.

She was taken by soldiers of Votlerra, who acted no better than common thieves. Of course, they were not wearing Volterra's colors, as the kidnapping of ladies of Forks by Aro's soldiers would mean war declared. No, Aro was much too cowardly for such an act. He prefers to sneak and thieve rather than fight outright.

Bella tried to keep her chin up and her eyes dry as the crowd moved in closer to her cage, waving their fists and shouting indiscernible things, but it was proving difficult. Her bars, which she had cursed for the last day, now proved a haven from the mob. And yet she knew it would not last, her enemies would be upon her soon enough.

Bella was no fool, she knew what was to become of her and the other ladies. A 'prize' she was called— but not to be hung on the wall. She looked past the mob to the men in armor beyond. None were yelling and thrashing like the peasants, but the looks in their eyes as they watched the four girls made Bella's stomach clench with a far greater fear. She glanced around, noting their looks ranged from amusement, excitement, lust, to unmistakable danger. Some glanced between the four girls, others focused their sites on one, as if choosing a target. One copper haired knight's gaze was fixed so directly on her and with such intensity, it made her extremely uneasy. All of Volterra's knights would pass for no more than criminals in Forks. She looked away quickly to avoid it.

_Anger, keep your anger. It is the strongest tool you have._

Bella tried to bury her fear in the roiling fury she felt for her kidnappers. She turned to Aro, who looked so pleased by his 'prizes', and concentrated her every tremor into a rage directed at him. He was announcing the end of the day's events and the continuation of the tournament in the morning.

"I trust my prizes will spark an exciting sport." As he spoke, he turned his eyes on Bella and met her stare. His voice took on a subtly hard edge and she couldn't mistake the wicked glint in his eyes as he continued. "This is only the beginning of Volterra's show of strength. Let this tournament be a reminder that we wield the power to _crush_ our opponents."

Bella felt as though cold were seeping into her bones and she knew that she would not survive Volterra.

* * *

><p><strong>Back into the world of fandom and officially off hiatus! (that is, if anyone still cares…) <strong>

**I don't have a schedule yet, but I'm shooting for short and quicker updates. Maybe drabble, we'll see how it goes. I'm excited for this, I think it will be an interesting ride. Leave a review if you're still interested. **

**Lots of love! -****Bitterblue**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

That night at the banquet, Edward could not relax. Knights and lords ate, drank, and laughed all around him but he could not join in. His mind was wandering away to where the ladies of Forks were being held.

It took every ounce of his considerable willpower to stay in his seat and not seek her out. He had seen the shadow of at least one bruise marring that porcelain skin and he was itching to pry the fingers off the hand that caused it. But he was a knight of Volterra and must act as such.

He knew she must be frightened, despite the brave front she put on. She was Lady Marie, niece of King William. She lived a charmed and comfortable life.

Growing up in Forks, he had naturally heard talk of the youngest member of the royal family, Lady Marie, the beautiful girl who was beloved and doted on by the royals. He didn't realize until he had glimpsed the royal procession a week after her rescue that his Bella was the fair Lady Marie. He didn't know why she had given the name Bella. Perhaps she didn't want him to know who she truly was. She had taken pity on him, saved his life that day and set it on a new course, but the gap between them was so vast, it must have been trying to be in the presence of such a lowly creature as he had been— a street urchin. Even now, he had to hold back a cringe.

Bella was the only person left on this earth who could possibly connect him to that boy and she was now staying within the same walls. If she ever discovered the power she had over her enemy's champion knight, he would be finished. All he had worked for, all he had built his life to be.

He should stay far away from her, bow out of this tournament and leave the castle until the winner claims his prize and departs. But he couldn't do that. He seethed at the thought. Edward could no more leave his Bella to the hands of another man than he could stand in front of King Aro and declare to all of Volterra who he really was, a peasant and an enemy. And yet, by winning Bella, he might be doing just that.

He had to keep his identity from her and stay distanced, show her only Sir Edward, knight and enemy of her people, but keep her close enough to ensure her safety and well-being.

It was a thin line to tread, a slip in either direction dire, and yet he must walk it.

He drew a hand over his face and scrubbed his eyes roughly. Jasper dropped himself down on the bench next to Edward and slid over a tankard of ale. "I know that look, what's troubling you?"

Edward sighed and offered his friend a different problem. "The stolen girls won't be a secret for long. Forks will know soon enough."

Jasper sobered a bit, his brows drawing together. "Aye, and the King's niece to boot. Not long before her disappearance reaches their court. Even shorter if their damn Oracle catches wind. We'll be in battle before the leaves fall. What a way to start a war."

Edward grunted in agreement, not trusting his words.

"Still, lovely consolation prizes, eh?" Jasper winked and laughed. "I suspect you'll be holding out for the top flower?"

Edward gripped his tankard, a grim smile curling his lips. "Aye, of that you can be sure."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Bella tossed and turned again on the dank cot, unable to relax enough to find sleep in the stiflingly shut-in room that acted their prison. Her shoulders were clenched up to her ears and her hands kept reflexively balling into fists. She heard a whimper. Quietly, she sat up and looked at the dark haired girl tucked into the corner cot, knees to her chest, arms wrapped protectively around her small frame. Bella skirted around the other two, passed out from emotional exhaustion, and moved to join the girl-child. She could not be more than fifteen summers, such a young thing to be thrust into this terrible situation.

She moved to the small girl and wrapped an arm around her. "Shh," she cooed to the girl, "Not to worry now. You're not alone."

The girl made a valiant effort to pull herself together, wiping her eyes and muttering a quiet "Lady Marie," as she bobbed her head. But soon she collapsed against Bella's side and sobbed into her tunic.

Bella rubbed her back and murmured things like "there, there" and "hush now". She didn't know what else to do. She couldn't say "it will be alright" or "you're safe, I promise" because neither was true. So instead she asked the girl a question to distract her.

"What is your name, Lady?" This did not produce the desired effect. The girl did quiet her sobs a bit, but her shoulders hunched into a protective position, she leaned away and downcast her eyes.

"I am Lady Mary of Brandon, my Lady." She said this so quietly, as though hoping Bella would not hear her.

And Bella realized why. She had heard of this girl, her name was infamous among the border lords. Scary Mary, she was called. She was known as somewhat mad after a few public fits. Attacks of the mind, some called it. Demons, others whispered. She falls to the ground, keening and shaking, unable to be roused for a few chimes until she recovers with no memory of the episode. After one particularly public incident at the New Year's festival, Lady Mary had been deemed Scary Mary and avoided like a plague.

Bella felt, if possible, even worse now. How would the brutish people of Volterra react if the girl had a fit? What would be done? She felt so overwhelmed by the darkness looming ahead of them, she had to force down the aching dread to remain composed. After several deep breathes, she tightened her arms around the girl and said, "I want to share a secret with you. I was born Lady Marie, but that is not my true name."

Mary rubbed her eyes, "I don't understand."

Bella leaned in, like they were co-conspirators, and whispered, "My nursemaid once told me that everyone has a secret name, and that only those you trust most in the world are privy to it. Only those you feel a soul-connection to are allowed to know your secret name, your true self. And I want you to know mine."

Lady Mary's eyes were wide with a childish awe as she gazed up at her, and Bella's heart clenched to know the situation that this innocent girl would soon be forced into.

"Thank you, Lady Marie. I'm honored."

Bella smiled and shook her head. "Not Lady to you. And not Marie. My title is Lady Marie Isabella Reneta of Forks, but you may know me as Bella."

Lady Mary smiled in delight and repeated, "Bella."

"But only in secret," Bella warned, "No one else may know. Now, what is yours?"

Lady Mary's smile dropped a little. "I do not have one."

"Of course you do. What is your full name?"

"Lady Mary Alice of Brandon." Under her breath she muttered, "Scary Mary."

"No," Bella said forcefully. "That is not your name and I never wish to hear that horrible label again. From now on I, and anyone else you wish to, shall call you Alice. Is that alright?"

Alice smiled and nodded eagerly.

Bella smiled too. "Okay, Alice. Now I think we should get some sleep. Do you mind if I sleep over here with you?"

"Of course, Lady M—Bella. I would love that." And the girl tucked herself into Bella's arms and closed her eyes with a smile, forgetting their dark situation for a few blissful bells. Bella smiled and thought of her nursemaid, Esme, and how happy she would be to meet Alice. The name 'Bella' had been chosen for her by Esme when she was young and felt alone in the world, growing up in a beautiful but lonely castle. Esme had always called her Bella, it had been their little secret. Well, almost.

* * *

><p>In the castle of Forks covered by nightfall, up in the highest tower, a single candle burned. An elderly woman knelt by an ancient alter, the candle clutched in her feeble hand. She stared into the flame, but her eyes were nothing but opaque white. She murmured softly to herself, rocking back and forth slightly. She never broke her position, until finally her eyes closed and a long breath escaped her, taking with it the vibrating energy and leaving only a tired old woman. When she opened her eyes again, they were back to a normal blue iris.<p>

After a moment of rest, she pulled herself up to stand and shuffled to the worn door, pulling it open. On the other side, leaning against the steps downward, was a young sentry dozing. The woman cleared her throat and the boy jumped up with alarm and then guilt. He blushed and stood tall, all signs of sleep gone.

"I have a message for the king," she said, "Take it to him at once."

"Yes, Oracle," the boy replied, bowing deep before standing to his full height once more.

She moved to the desk in the corner and scratched a quill on the parchment.

_Beware, the storm to the West approaches. _

_The first rain will spill innocent blood._

She signed her title and handed the folded slip to the sentry. "Be quick, boy."

He bowed and raced down the spiraling steps. She shut the door and leaned against the smoothed grain wood, feeling the years on her shoulders.

And so it had begun.


End file.
